


A Warden's Monologue

by EmbarrassedElephant



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 06:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18138878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmbarrassedElephant/pseuds/EmbarrassedElephant
Summary: Kaelyn never wanted a lot of things. But she certainly didn't want to fall in love.





	A Warden's Monologue

I never wanted to be bullied when I was little, being called Coo Coo Kaelyn. So I toughened up. I started my training and showed those boys that they couldn’t treat me like that. One of them asked me to dinner when I was a teenager, but I found that I wasn’t interested in a man that I could break in two.

I never wanted to be alone, so my father got me a purebred mabari. I named her Trouble, after the nickname Fergus gave me. For the longest time that puppy was violent to everyone around her. Even me, at times. She injured me once, bit onto my arm. As much as it hurt, I did not cry. In fact, I acted much like a mother. “I feed you, I pet you, I let you sleep on my bed when my mother tells me not to, and you bite me?” Trouble seemed shocked by my lack of retaliation. I think she’d been abused once upon a time, but she finally realized that I was not there to hurt her. My parents wanted to get rid of Trouble, get me a calmer breed, but I refused. She was tough, just like. She grew out of her violence eventually, though Nan never seemed to forget the time Trouble nipped at her rear, taking a bit of the cloth with her.

I never wanted to learn to sew an ugly sweater, so my father taught me how to sew skin back together. Fergus injured himself in training when I was 15. My friends and I had been watching. It wasn’t severe, but it bled a lot at first, landed on some of them. They all squealed while I simply found a needle from a kit in the training area and calmly tended to his wounds, all the while cursing him for being careless and telling him where he went wrong. “You should have moved your left foot back, brother, not your right.” “You were staring at the blade, not the man, brother.” “Next time don’t leave such a large opening, brother.”

I never wanted an arranged marriage, so my father dissuaded any suitors, telling all that I was to find my own path. For the most part, the men were understanding. Many of them did not want arranged marriages either, only their parents desired it. Some were angry. Did I think myself too good for them? I would politely bow, not curtsey, and walk out without another word. If they had to ask that question, I did not want anything to do with them.

I didn’t know if I wanted to be Teyrna. I heard peoples whispers. Some thought I better suited than Fergus. I considered it for a long while. I eventually decided that I would not take the title from Fergus, should he desire it, but being Teyrna would be a better fate than being some Lord’s prize.

I never wanted Arl Howe’s men to attack. Never wanted to see our Knights’ blood splattered across the walls.

I never wanted to see my brother’s wife and child, lifeless on the floor.

I never wanted to see my father, dying before me.

I never wanted to see my mother stay behind.

I never wanted to abandon my parents, just as my mother refused to abandon my father.

I never wanted to be a Grey Warden, but that’s what I became.

I never wanted to fall in love. It wasn’t part of the plan. I couldn’t handle it. I need to be strong, for everyone, for Fereldan, for Thedas, even for Orlais, the bastards. If I were to fall in love, to be with someone romantically, I’d have to be strong for them, too, and I couldn’t. I’d fall apart.

But that grinning, immature, blonde haired warden got to me. The way he used humor to cover for his insecurities. The way he tried to cheer me up, even if he didn't know what was wrong. The way he would accidentally brush his hand against mine and get so flustered. I remember one time, we were all sitting around the campfire after a particularly troublesome day. We were telling stories. It had devolved into ghost stories, because apparently we were all 12 at heart. Well, except Morrigan and Sten. It was Alistair’s turn, and he was being overly animated about it, to the point it wasn’t scary any more, just amusing. But I gasped at the ‘scary’ parts and put my hand to my forehead like a damsel in distress. He was eating it up. I was laughing at an especially ridiculous face he made when he threw his arms outward to demonstrate something, and I, sitting as close as I was, ended up getting hit. On one of my breasts.

It wasn’t a big deal really. If he’d just said, “Whoops, sorry,” and moved on, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But he didn’t say that. Instead, his story came to an abrupt halt and his hand lingered. I swear his eyes were about to pop out of his head as he realized where his hand was. Like I said, 12 year olds at heart.

After a length of time that made the situation glaringly obvious, he jerked his hand back, blushing the color of a tomato and immediately started babbling on and on about how sorry he was. He was being so fucking cute I couldn’t help it. I giggled. I tried to hold it back, but I couldn’t. He noticed, and turned an even brighter shade of red. Zevran, always chiming in with comments that made Alistair progressively uncomfortable, chimed in, “Alistair, there are easier ways to fondle a woman.”

I couldn't contain my laughter. I hadn't laughed like that in a while. A smug grin on Zevran’s face, and Alistair mumbled something about it being someone else’s turn to tell a story.

Alistair always stood up for me, always supported my decisions even when I doubted myself.

I was afraid. I’d never wanted to fall in love. I wasn’t strong enough.

But then something happened. I had a nightmare. Not one with darkspawn and archdemons, but one about my family. I relived the moment my father said he would “not survive the standing”, and when he said that, if I dragged him, I’d have to leave pieces of him behind.

I woke up with a scream, tears streaming down my face. I was sure I’d woken everyone in the camp, but I didn’t care. That dream had stripped away all my resolve, weakened the walls I’d built and broke them. And I wailed.

It didn’t take long for everyone to rip open the door of my tent, weapons drawn. I remember seeing Alistair and Morrigan and Sten looking down at me, curled up in a ball, wailing for no apparent reason. Alistair immediately dropped his weapon and shooed everyone away. He was awkward, approached me like I might bolt or lash out at him. But he had purpose. He sat down in front of me, arms curled around my knees. He started by putting his hand on mine, seemingly unsure if he should hold it or awkwardly pat me. He stroked my arm as I shook, and eventually sat beside me. A foot away at first, but soon after moved right next to me. He held me. Eventually lifted me into his lap and cradled me. He ran his hands through my tangled hair. He said he didn't know what to say. But he didn’t need to say anything. I just needed him. I knew he would stand by me no matter what.

He stayed up with me until the ugly crying had stopped and the hiccups had lessened. I opened up to him, told him about the deaths and my family and leaving them behind. He said he was sorry I had to go through with that. He wished he could have been there, wished he had known me before all this Blight shit had happened. I imagined that he had been one of the suitors to come for me. I imagined him fumbled over his words, clumsily making his way through the halls and fancy attire, seeing him in armor for the first time, confident with sword and shield in hand. 

Gently, soflty, he spoke, resting his head atop mine. “Nothing I say can take away your pain, I know that. Nothing anyone said made Duncan’s death any easier for me. But you know what helped? You. I knew you were there for me. I didn’t have to go through it alone, because you were there supporting me. I’m here for you Kaelyn, I’m not leaving you. I can be strong for you, too.”

It occurred to me that he was a man I couldn’t break in two.

I never wanted him to touch another woman, never wanted another woman to touch him. So when Morrigan told me about a ritual, I declined. Fervently. Scolded her for even suggesting such a thing. We were Grey Wardens, we never needed a ritual before, Riordan would kill the archdemon and everything would be fine. She backed off. I didn’t mention it to Alistair.

Before the battle, when Riordan never arrived, Alistair and I had our first fight. We yelled and screamed at each other, each wanting to be the one to kill it. Not for the glory, no, but to save the other. Eventually, I won. I would kill the damned beast. He was so mad, I thought he wouldn't ever forgive me. He held me tightly, suddenly. Kissed me softly, slowly. He couldn't look me in my eyes. He muttered something, a goodbye, I suppose. I couldn't bring myself to say it back.

I still didn’t want him to leave my side. I couldn’t do it without him. I was afraid I'd break in two.

So I brought him with me. 

And I realized that he hadn't mumbled a goodbye, but an apology.

 

 

I never wanted him to be the one to die.


End file.
